


Their way of living through healing

by Kafian



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Caring Harry, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, Grocery Shopping, Light Angst, Love, M/M, Post-War, St Mungo's Hospital
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-04-06 01:02:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19052089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kafian/pseuds/Kafian
Summary: “Everyone keeps thinking Sirius takes cares of him--money, a place to stay, love--but often, it's the other way around too.Sirius Black has many scars, mental and physical. Harry is there to see him through it.”[Prompt by exarite. Written for the Sirry Summer Fest.]





	Their way of living through healing

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Polski available: [Sposób na spokojne życie](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19053898) by [Kafian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kafian/pseuds/Kafian)
  * In response to a prompt by [exarite](https://archiveofourown.org/users/exarite/pseuds/exarite) in the [SirryFest](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/SirryFest) collection. 



> Thank you exarite for the prompt!

  
At six-thirty, Harry got up from the bed, stretching the stiff bones and looking at the view outside the window. The street was deserted, and the curtains in the neighbouring houses were completely shut off. The sun was  slowly rising, bringing both people and omnipresent nature back to life.

As the loud snore passed over the bedroom, Harry turned and saw a pure sight of cuteness. Sirius was embracing Harry's pillow, and had his face half covered with his hair. Fortunately, this night they didn't have another nightmare.

After carefully covering his beloved with a duvet and kissing him gently on the forehead, Harry left the room, leaving the door ajar. It was like a code for them. The half opened door meant to Sirius that Harry was at home, while when the boy closed it — it equalled it with his absence. They established a way of silent communication after a few days of moving into this new place. Sirius often woke up in shock or torn out of a nightmare and without seeing Harry close to him, his actions could turn into those hysterical and desperate. Once it even happened that the man still guided by the fear of a nightmare, ran out of the apartment, looking for his lover, even though he only went out to the store next door. That's why it was better for both of them when they used the way with the door; it allowed them both not to worry unnecessarily.

Immediately after the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry, well aware of Sirius's hatred of Grimmauld Place, rented a medium-sized, cosy apartment in a safe and friendly Muggle district. Here no journalist (such as a Skeeter who didn't give in with her actions), or other wizards, couldn't disturb their recently regained peace.

Harry put the fruit salad from the bowl into two plates, where there were toasts waiting. He put the dishes full of food on the table behind him, and when he turned around, he noticed Sirius, who, with a strenuous pace, approached him with a sleepy smile on his face. Harry opened the top cupboard from which he pulled out two cups. He almost dropped them when he felt Sirius embracing him from behind. He put his head on his shoulder so that his hair tickled the boy's cheek. Without a word, Harry tossed the tea into his mugs and, ignoring the fact that Sirius was closely watching his movements, he grabbed the kettle, in order to make them some hot tea.

“How was your sleep?” Harry asked after giving the man a peck on the cheek. He walked to the table, placing both cups on it, then sat down on the chair, waiting for Sirius.

He joined him, looking with some kind of admiration at the food in front of him.

“Pretty good,” he replied, then picked up a sliced banana on the fork. “No veggies today?”

“I decided to be charitable and make you a one-day break from them,” he answered, smiling at Sirius, who after hearing Harry's words was more confident in eating this healthy meal. Well, he did everything according to the instructions of the Healer who dealt with the Sirius's case. As the wizard said: “One day off a week can result in an improvement in the mental state of the patient. Remember, however, that even then we have to adhere to the rules we have made!”

When they ate and put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher, Harry happily announced that they should go shopping together. Sirius mumbled something about the fact that it was definitely too early, but he anyway changed into something less looking like pyjamas. Or rather, the lack of it, bearing in mind that Sirius was most comfortable to sleep in boxers, nothing more. Not that Harry ever complained about it.

But before they finally left the apartment, Harry looked at Sirius, checking to see if everything was all right. It looked like it was okay with the man, but not necessarily with his clothing. Harry undid Sirius's shirt, much to the man's surprise. After a second, it occurred to Sirius that he omitted one button so that the effect didn't look too elegant.

“Thanks, Harry,” he said with a smile as the boy finished, then he grabbed his hand, and they both walked down the solitary sidewalk towards the store.

Harry specifically chose the early hours of shopping, not wanting to meet too many muggles on his way. He knew well that Sirius, in a crowd of people, especially in confined spaces, felt a lot of pressure and stress. It was visible, his sweating palms or a jumping look that seemed subconsciously looking for an alternative way of escape was speaking enough. That is why early morning hours were the best time to get to such places. Sirius felt comfortable when he could push the cart with products in every direction, not afraid of colliding with a muggle, and Harry could calmly focus on what he should buy for their home assortment.

“Do we need something else or can we go to the cash register?” He heard Sirius's slightly impatient voice, who rested on a half-filled cart, looking around the deserted alley in which they were now.

Harry looked again at the shopping list, which he kept in his hand, wondering decently.

“We can go now,” he replied after a long moment, stating in his mind that if he had forgotten something, he could just go to the store by himself.

Sirius ruffled his hair, which resulted in Harry turning his head towards him. Before he could even blink, he felt a gentle and short brush on his lips. Sirius hugged him for an equally short moment, then with a smile of gratitude went to the cash register, where Harry exchanged a few sentences with the cashier and also took care of the payment for the purchased goods.

“I can carry them.” Sirius took the carrier bags from his hands as soon as they left the building.

Harry thanked him, and the man only shortly laughed, saying that he was still capable of lifting the weights. The boy didn't miss the note of sadness in Sirius' voice. No matter how he tried to raise his spirits saying he was physically as well as mentally fit, he still felt like an ordinary burden to him. Sirius just couldn't believe that the boy had a completely different opinion about him.

After they were back home, Harry started to unpack everything from the bags and then stacking the products to the right places.

“We have mail,” Sirius called to him from the living room, and after a moment he went into the kitchen, putting a few letters on the table.

“What people do we owe this pleasure to?” Harry quipped, to which Sirius laughed, helping the boy in the sorting. “One is from Hermione, the other from the Ministry of Magic, and the rest are some fan letters for you.”

Harry shook his head, and when they finished sorting products, he leaned against the kitchen counter and began to read the letters. At the same time, Sirius was making tea for them.

Hermione wrote about the upcoming elections for the new Minister of Magic, where she informed him quite emphatically that she would have been delighted if Harry decided to vote in a more public way for the right candidate (where she noted with a small script whom she considers worthy of this position). The next paragraph explained the current political issues, as well as what was happening in the magical world — Harry immediately omitted, he didn't want to spoil the day so well started. She asked below how was he and Sirius, how they were doing, and hinted that they should remember that in case of any problems or emergency, her fireplace always stood for them wide open. In the end, she mentioned that the day after tomorrow the family meeting (and some Order of the Phoenix) would be held, which she would have been glad if Harry had come with Sirius.

Harry sighed heavily and quickly folded the letter, then tucked it into his pants pocket. He didn't want Sirius to read it by accident and feel that he was forced to go with him to the Burrow, to people who ignored him for so many years and didn't try to get the truth about his innocence. Harry also often had some doubts about people belonging to the Order of the Phoenix, but he never made them out loud. He didn't need more enemies in his life.

He also realized that society, even his friends (not counting Ron and Hermione) was convinced that Harry was living by being “spoiled” by Sirius. The truth, however, was that they only saw what they wanted to see. Black's fortune, which Sirius didn't touch since he bought him a new broom for his third year (because he was abhorred by everything that belonged to his family). Boundless love, which was seen through the prism of gossip as a remedy for all post-war traumas and wounds (but there was something much more to it). People didn't notice that it was just the opposite. It was Harry who tried his best to bring Sirius back to functioning properly. He wanted the man's mind and thoughts to become clear and sharp, that he would behave adequately for his age (the healer said that it was because of Azkaban that Sirius sometimes continued to make spontaneous and equally risky decisions, just like when he went on rescue mission, joining the fight in the Ministry). 

Harry didn't care about people's opinion, because Sirius was the most important part of his life. He could sacrifice himself for him for decades.

“You don't hide an affair with me from one of your die-hard fans, eh?” Sirius approached him and despite the unpronounceable tone of voice, his eyes failed to hide the uncertainty, as well as the fear of rejection.

“Never,” he said at once, not wanting to leave the man's pessimistic imagination. “I love only you, Siri. You know it well.”

The wizard's face cleared again, and in his eyes, a boundless love flashed. He embraced the boy at the waist, then hugged him tightly. They stayed that way for a long moment in which Harry thanked Merlin and all the other gods for having survived the war. Although the wounds remained and probably will not disappear for a long time, Harry was very optimistic. Together, they are able to do everything.

* * *

  
The next morning Harry got up a bit later, but still early (at least according to Ron's canons). He took a quick, refreshing shower, after which he dressed as representative as he could to be still somehow comfy. Today's outfit consisted of a shirt, black trousers, and a dinner jacket. As much as he preferred loose T-shirts and jeans, unfortunately, if he was going to go to a magical society, he was forced to dress properly. He had no intention of making people look at him, or that Skeeter would write about him as if he had become a homeless war veteran. It was enough that when he was often seen with Sirius, in every possible newspaper, such things were written about them that one day, even Draco Malfoy himself offered them to sue magazines for defamation on their behalf. Harry still couldn't understand Malfoy's behaviour, as well as the fact that somehow they managed to repair their complicated relationship all because of years of hate. Harry, however, didn't want to be on anybody's wrong side anymore. In addition, he didn't want to incur Sirius, who was much more sensitive to any rumours or verbal attacks directed towards their not-so-innocent relationship.

The breakfast was ready for a few minutes, and there was no trace of Sirius. Eventually, Harry returned to their shared bedroom, checking to see if he was still asleep. The man was lying on his side, facing the window, through which the sun's rays fell on his tired face. Sirius was looking blankly straight ahead, and with being so covered with a white quilt to the neck itself, he resembled more a patient in a closed ward, rather than Harry's beloved, which he was taking care of.

“Siri, breakfast is ready,” he announced in a whisper, sitting down slowly on the bed.

“I don't want to go there.” Sirius' voice was hoarse, he spoke with obvious difficulty. So Harry immediately summoned a glass from the kitchen, to which he had previously poured the juice. He gave it to the man who took it in silence. He sat down and leaned against the bed frame, staring at the drink, which after a moment he consumed in one gulp.

“How much will you be disappointed with me if I do not agree to go there?” Sirius asked, barely audible, squeezing the glass tightly in his hands. Harry thanked himself that when they moved in he threw a special spell on all the dishes so that they wouldn't be able to break under any pressure. He didn't want Sirius to cut himself inadvertently with sharp pieces of glass.

“I would not be disappointed with you…” he said after a moment, “...but with myself, for insufficient efforts to make you feel better.”

Apparently, the total honesty in his voice was enough for Sirius to make the final decision. Fortunately, it contained the consent to go on a weekly Friday visit to the St. Mungo's Hospital.

Harry helped him choose the clothes in which Sirius found himself sat on the bed with the boy's request, who then took his place behind him. He summoned a brush and comb from the bathroom, and then took up the challenge of bringing Sirius's ratty hair back to order. It was an activity that the boy performed on those days when the wizard was unable to do it by himself. Harry understood that sometimes even the smallest movements required great sacrifice and enormous amounts of energy, which Sirius most often didn't have on Friday mornings.

When the small braid on the right side of Sirius' head was ready, Harry bound it with a burgundy ribbon. He did the same with the rest of the hair, which in this edition gave Sirius an almost aristocratic look. He was happy that he once found the courage to ask Ginny and Luna for help in learning to make braids and other pretty hairstyles. Harry wished Sirius would never consider himself unattractive again. From time to time he saw the man standing a few times longer at the mirror, focusing only on scars and wrinkles, and skillfully neglected his own inner beauty. However, Harry was always with him, every day honouring him with compliments, assuring him of his high value, beauty and other qualities that he didn't notice.

As they passed the hallways of the hospital, Harry would walk with Sirius, holding him tightly, thus making sure that he wouldn't escape or that stress wouldn't make him turn into Padfoot.

When they entered the office, Sirius trembled all over his body. Harry led him to a chair in front of the desk, behind which the healer was sitting. He smiled at them in greeting, then began to talk with Sirius, whose answers were only nodding and shaking his head. Harry kept his hands on his shoulders as a reassurance that he was here with him. Together they will be able to go through all the difficulties.

* * *

  
After dinner, Sirius sat in his favourite armchair and Harry had the impression that he was dwelling about today's visit. The doctor didn't tell them anything new, so the boy honestly had no idea why Sirius was again in his state of deep reflection.

Not wanting to look at how his beloved lost himself again in his depression and unwelcome melancholy, he grabbed the Quibbler and then sat on the lap of a surprised man who immediately caught him and then embraced him tightly. Harry rested his legs on the armrest and leaned his head against Sirius' shoulder. He opened the magazine on a random page and then began to read a story written on it.

From time to time, Sirius laughed at the ever newer absurd Harry was reading about. Enjoying the good mood of the man, he didn't stop to familiarize the two with the content of the tabloid, even when the sun had already gone down and the darkness descended. The lamps charmed by Harry lit up automatically.

When they flipped through the entire Quibbler, they stayed in the same position for a long time, enjoying the warmth that their intimacy gave them.

* * *

  
The storm didn't wake him up. A sudden visit didn't wake him up. Not even a Death Eater attack, or another return of Voldemort. No. What caused a shiver of horror on his body and the memory of the Dementors in his mind, were the agonizing cries of Sirius, who was spasmodically moving beside him on the bed.

When it finally occurred to him, what was happening, he quickly turned on the light and then began to wake Sirius up. He was sweaty all over his body, that he was slipping out of Harry's hands. Harry didn't try to shout at the man, thus awakening him, no, what he had been doing for years was a gentle bringing him back to the prevailing reality by saying words full of care, love, and assurance that everything is and will be all right.

After a time that seemed like an eternity to Harry, Sirius finally woke up, but unfortunately still trembling all over his body, as if he was under the influence of Cruciatus curse.

When Sirius began to apologize to him, Harry gently told him that he had no reason to apologise because it was normal to have nightmares; eventually, everyone had them at some moment in their life. And especially they, those who survived the terrible times of war.

“Can you get back to sleep?” Sirius nodded slowly, and when they lay down again, he embraced Harry tightly, putting his head down just above his rhythmically beating heart, as if to make sure he lived, that they both lived.

Harry whispered to him soothing words until he fell asleep, this time a peaceful dream, not a macabre nightmare.

* * *

  
In the morning, Harry got up with big difficulty. He couldn't even change his clothes, so he put on a bathrobe, left the door ajar and went to the kitchen to put in a kettle, this time for coffee. He needed a decent dose of caffeine if he was supposed to function properly today. After he managed to wake Sirius out of his nightmare, and then put him back to sleep, he didn't sleep at all.

To his great surprise, he heard lively steps behind him and after a while, he saw Sirius, who greeted him with a wide smile. The man walked in the kitchen, embraced Harry, and gave him a long and sweet kiss on the lips.

“I love you, Harry,” he confessed, staring at the ravenous man with adoration, who gasped with disbelief. Not about hearing that Sirius loved him, but about the man being lovey-dovey.

Never before Sirius's mood and well-being has improved so quickly. From day to day he became a joyful and charming man from the wreck of a man. Harry, however, regarded this miracle as a kind of progress in the therapy he had been attending with Sirius for two years. Everything slowly took on lively and brighter colours.

“I love you too, Siri,” he said, returning the confession and then also a kiss full of warmth and affection.

Their hands clung to one place on the body of the other, considering wandering around the whole body as wasting the time unnecessary when they just could enjoy the specific point. They broke away from each other, only when the kettle brought them back to the reality with its loud boiling. They took care of preparing breakfast, which today consisted of sweet pancakes. However, when they jointly brought the mass to a perfect consistency, Harry couldn't find the pan.

“Just change a pot into a pan and problem solved,” Sirius said after a moment, shrugging his shoulders.

“Never heard of it,” said the boy, frowning. He couldn't remember that Molly would ever change her pots into a different form.

“Harry, honey, you're a wizard.” He shook his head amused and, after placing hot coffee mugs on the table, he walked over to the boy with his wand in his hand.

“It's simple,” he said, showing him the wand movement he needed. “And then short _Alteratio *_ and voilà!”

The glass, which was his goal, turned into a large jug, and Harry couldn't be more surprised that Sirius had such a “teacher mode” like Remus.

“I didn't know you were good at Transfiguration.” Harry put the jug aside, followed Sirius's advice, turned the pot into a pan that was perfect for frying pancakes.

“Are you kidding? I was a born genius!” he cried proudly. “It's a pity that Minerva couldn't appreciate my talent,” he added in mock grief, then they both laughed, and continued making pancakes.

When they sat at the table where everything was ready, Harry couldn't get rid of the impression that this day was really a breakthrough in their relationship as well as in recovery after so many painful years. Cooking also became their common hobby, which was a kind of determinant of emotional and mental state.

Sirius had his worse and better moments, but Harry, despite all the adversities, tried to enjoy every moment he spent with his beloved.

**Author's Note:**

> * — random Latin word which translates to “alteration”.


End file.
